Fallen
by Savioroftheliar
Summary: How much weight can two small words hold? When Sanada finds himself waking up from a drunken haze in a hotel room he questions what happened last night. Unaware of the truth that he's lost and the pain that he will be forced to endure.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

That night was colder than usual. The bitter autumn windswept across the face of a certain, currently intoxicated young man of early twenty. He was tall and unnecessarily handsome. Staggering down the empty street at 3'oclock in morning, the blackness of the night matching his jet eyes, now hazed with drink. At his side he loosely clasps a half empty bottle of Brandy complementing his disarray style. His silk red tie worn loosely around his neck and his expensive looking white linen dress shirt was half tucked in. How the mighty has fallen.

"Sanada-fukobucho."

A soft voice bathed in rasp then kissed the air. At the sound of his name the drunk man looked up and standing before him was one of many men who he sore to bury in the deep most regions of his memory. And out of all of the precious men who rested within him, why did it have to be _him_?

A man almost two years his junior with wild raven hair and big forest green eyes that were currently drowning with concern for his former vice captain stood waveringly on the tough tar below him.

"What the hell are you doing out here so late?" the slightly younger male asked.

"_He's so cute_," was the only thing that Sanada could think.

If he were even the slightest bit coherent he would have probably cursed himself for showing such a disgraceful appearance in front of his kohai. But the truth was, he wasn't. Slowly he staggered forward pressing his mouth to the others lips, forcefully, vehemently, hungrily as if he was trying to rip off a chunk of him. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, like he's in pain, and slowly, like something melting, the lips he sealed with the force of a bite start relaxing. The wild haired male desperately struggles against him, pushing his hands against his chest trying to push the other man away. Nothing has changed—since back then…

Not then and not now could the raven-haired devil ever win against the much stronger elder. His strength was too much for him to oppose; whether it be on the court battling with rackets or on the street corner battling with their tongues. There the two stand clashing tongues at their two-man reunion, the breath leaking from Sanada's mouth, licks Akaya's. From the tip of his tongue to the moist craven of the elders mouth Akaya soon became intoxicated, who knows from what. The Brandy clearly present within the others mouth or from the sheer presence of seeing this man again after so long.

The next morning the sun arose like normal. The cold of the night before dissipated into the light, golden rays of the sun. Everything was clear and beautiful once again, expect for one man.

Sanada awoke in a groggy haze, his head pounding and felt dizzy. He couldn't focus his eyes and could barely sit up. The room was almost as black as the night before. His eyes wondered a bit as he tried to figure out where he was. Having no other choice he crawled off the bed of unfamiliarity and dragged himself to the light switch on the other side of the room, bumping into something on his way. Reaching the light and fumbling to turn it on the room lit up revealing itself to be a hotel room. It was nice and a reasonable size, not too extravagant, but not too rundown either. Seeing now that the thing that he bumped into was an armchair; the apulstary was a fine patterned gold. The bed that he had abandoned was a king size, submerged in a sea of cotton and silk, white and peach. Around him he stood wall to wall in montana color. Everything was fine and elegant; unfitting his personality. The problem was that he couldn't remember how he ended up here. He searched himself deeply trying to remember the events that took place the night before, but due to still being under the effects of alcohol he didn't get very far. He closed his eyes to exhale and calm himself grabbing his tie, cast aside, and left the room, leaving it as it was.

His room was on the fifth floor, staggering yet again as he walked he entered the elevator and arrived down at the lobby. No one in particular took much notice to him, who would? A drunk in a fancy hotel as this was no place for the current Sanada Genichirou.

"Ah, how are you feeling this morning, sir?" the man at the front desk addressed him. He was polite and greeted him with a genuine smile, curious about his well being. He was dressed in a sharp, tailored black suit and wore his hair slicked back. Sanada couldn't find it within himself to return the pleasantry; he only turned his eyes toward him.

"Please don't worry about the bill. Your room has already been paid for by your friend from last night."

_Last night_. The words hit him hard. Perhaps this was the only way to find out at least part of what happened the night before in his drunken haze.

"Excuse me, but did my 'friend' tell you their name or perhaps an address as to where I can find them?" Sanada questioned. He was hopeful to receive an answer, but truthfully he knew just having a name wouldn't be enough, he needed to know where he can differently find them no matter the time or day.

Looking up at the man his face betrayed a perplexed expression as he thought deeply upon the man who graced his presence; he fell silent for what felt like ages.

"I am sure he did tell me his name, but I can't seem to remember correctly. As for an address he didn't give one, my apologies," the desk man replied.

Again he was very polite and slightly bowed to convey his sorry. Without another word Sanada walked away. He didn't blame the desk man, he wasn't his fault, it wasn't his duty to remember the names of every person who comes and goes through the hotel. Sanada was more mad at himself, mad for not being able to remember, mad for falling so low, mad for having to go out and drown himself in liquor, mad for allowing any of this to happen at all.

What was he to do now? Nothing else to do but to head home, since he couldn't think straight and had no leads as to finding the friend who helped him last night. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if paying for his hotel room was all that he did, or was there more? As the fallen warrior exited the building of lavish elegance, the cool air hit him harshly, but for some reason; on his lips he could feel a ghost of warmth.

Much later once the sun had fallen prey to the darkness of the night once again Sanada found himself waking up to a proverbial ring from his cell phone. The same phone that a certain egoistical rival had given him for Christmas so many years ago. Dragging himself from his bed sheets he stretched his arm out to reach for the phone that had been laying on the side table near his bed.

"Hello...," he spoke, groggily from just waking up. He whimpered as he rubbed at his eyes trying to adjust to the blindly light his phone was giving off.

"Ah, Genichirou your home. Thank goodness," the voice on the other end was painfully familiar. It was sweet and highly pitched almost sounding like a girl.

"When I was wasn't able to reach you last night I got worried. How are you feeling?" Sanada could hear the concern that caressed the others tongue and a wave of emotion consumed him, suddenly he found himself having to hold back from grasping at his chest to try and stop the pain that had suddenly conflicted him.

"I'm fine," he replied, his tone callous and his eyes-dead.

"Really? Then that's good. I thought that maybe you have done something reckless because of what happened last night."

Last night. There it was again. Last night. How could two such simple words hold such mystery? Just what happened last night that would make Sanada do something "reckless"? Was there more to what happened last night than he thought? And then it hit him. He had never let himself get so drunk before; only a few light drinks in the past or a beer after work. So what happened that made him what to drown his senses in liquor?

"Yukimura," he said.

"Yes."

"Tell me. What happened last night?"

The line went dead. The beauty of navy blue hair went mute and biting his lip he slowly dragged the next words from his mouth.

"You mean you...can't remember...?" he questioned, hesitantly with a heavy tone.

"No. It...seems I had a little too much to drink last night and I found myself in a hotel room this morning."

"Too much to drink? Hotel room?" Yukimura only managed to the repeat the words that had shocked him the most. Falling speechless yet again he had to question himself if the man who he called was really the Sanada Genichirrou that he knew.

"Genichirou...last night... you and I...broke up..."

At first Sanada wasn't sure if he'd heard him right, it had been whispered so quietly. His body tensed as the words sunk in.

"W...what?"

Yukimura didn't say anything else, just went silent on the other end of the line. No excuse, no explanation. Sanada saw red as his eyes changed and he let out an angry inhuman sound.

Five years. For once the two words _last night_ weren't able to hold a candle to the words that just flashed in his mind. For five years, no, even longer, since the very moment the two men meet they had been together and for five years, since their final year of middle school their relationship took a rather deeper turn. They had been lovers and now everything was gone. Why? For what reason? When? Question after question came flooding into Sanada's mind, desperate to find answers, but he couldn't speak, he couldn't move. All he could do was let his emotions take control.

That was it, wasn't it? The trigger that made Sanada fall prey to the massive predator known as alcohol. The source of his usual intoxication became no longer accessible to him so he turned elsewhere. He betrayed him, Yukimura, as well as himself. For five years the only thing Sanada had ever been drunk on...was Yukimura's love.

There was nothing left he could do. Without the audaciousness to further the conversation and ask his former lover the reason behind their break-up he slowly dragged his phone down from his ear and clicked the END call button. This-can't be real. His heart, that lifeless organ that never felt the pleasantries of love before Yukimura; ached. He felt paralyzed as pangs of emotion seared through him. At the corner of his eyes he could feel tears threatening to break free. When was the last time he ever felt this dejected? It wasn't Yukimura's fault. Even if it was, how could he blame him? Even with his memory compromised deep down he knew that Yukimura was the one to end it, because if it was he himself who decided to break up would he still have this painful love for him that he does now? How do you tell when you know you have to stop loving someone? "Damn you, Yukimura Seiichi," he cursed Yukimura's kindness. It was that kindness of his that compelled the navy haired male to call his recent Ex, nothing more. He may have been concerned, but only due to his own vices. He bite down harshly on his molar choking back his tears willing to betray him, those wet drops mixed with salt stung his eyes however, that small twinge could never compare to the pain that currently contorted in his chest. His hushed moans of sadness echoed bitterly, biting his ears in his _empty_ apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After a few days had passed everything had seemingly returned to normal. Sanada returned to his everyday life, pushing on strong just like he's always done. Taking one step and moving three steps ahead. Breathe; in and out, steadily and even. His surroundings were quiet and his mind was blank, only concentrating on his breathing, concentrating and his concentration. Until the peace was abruptly _broken_.

"Sensei, are you all right?"

He was pulled out from his own subconscious from a tug on his Kendo gi and a high pitched voice accompanied by concern. Snapping back into reality he looked down and saw a young girl, her eyebrows contorted upward in worry. She's wearing a similar kimono to the one he's wearing only in a female style, her bare feet planted firmly on the dojo floor. The elder man paused briefly collecting himself and stood upright, knowing that it would be far too unfitting to show any sign of disgrace in front of a student.

"Yes, Kana. I'm just fine. Thank you," he returned with an all knowing glare down at the brunette girl.

"That's good, Sensei!" she replied with a joyous grin. "But you know Sensei, if you really aren't feeling well you shouldn't overexert yourself. Isn't that what you always tell us?"

_'How unsightly'_, he thought bitterly to himself. To be lectured by his own student, he really must be losing his touch as the strict, strong willed emperor he used to be. Still, there was a lingering feeling like déjà vu, almost like this scene seemed played out before. But by who? Quickly he negated allowing himself to dwell too much on the thought and turned his attention back to the class that was now in session.

Five years had passed and now the feared former vice-captain of Rikkaidai Fuzoku had retired from the tennis courts and became a Kendo instructor, running his own dojo. No matter what period of time Sanada was still Sanada. Only, for once in his life he was Sanada Genichirou without Yukimura by his side. And he was okay with that, or as okay as he could be. As quickly as the memory of his ex-lover came to him he erased from his mind.

"Listen up!" he suddenly called out causing his age-diverse students to shudder from being caught off guard, their teachers strong voice ringing within their ears and soaking deep into the very marrow of their bones.

"Don't slack off! Get into pairs and begin doing drills!"

At their teachers command the Kendo youths follow their instructions, grabbing a partner and holding their trainers bamboo swords at the ready. Within mere moments the once silent room was filled with the sound of clashing blades over and over, as the students battled out testing their strengths. Watching the events that played out before him Sanada could only nod with satisfaction while still holding a strict glare.

He smirked in something that could be interpreted as happiness. Seeing the determined countenance's on his students faces with sweat levitating off their bodies, continuing to struggle forward fighting with high spirits in order to win the match brought forth memories of the past that soothed his troubled heart. His past struggles were not something to fear, but rather to embrace. It made the austere elder at ease seeing his students living and appreciating the rigorous training that he himself once had to endure.

There was nothing more that he could do but watch over the precious youths that kept him sane all this time, they may be thinking that they count on him much more as a sensei, but the truth was as much as they relied on him he relied on them just as much if not more. It was a peaceful feeling that Sanada will never share.

Throughout the day the class continued performing arduous drill after drill. The students struggled through it all, having no other alternative but to keep their confidence high and keep growing stronger.

THUMP. A loud sound rang throughout the room as one male collided harshly to the floor, being knocked down by his opponent. Sprawled out on the ground clutching himself in pain he greets his teeth out of frustration and searched him, wondering if he had the strength to get back up.

"Tarundoru!" Sanada spat harshly, disgust caressing his tongue. "Get up now! If you allow yourself to be overcome by doubt then your should give up now! Don't even bother to stand up, you weakling."

Cruel. How cruel. Such severe words aimed at a child no more than twelve years of age. Even more so than the pain of being knocked down by his classmate it was his words that truly sank in. Like a sharp blade cutting in deep, but not deep enough to deliver a fatal blow. This only made the boy grow even more irritated, thinking his teacher was testing him, seeing whether or not, he still possessed the strength to stand up even if he was on his last leg.

Finally having enough the boy wiped the sweat from his brow in a fierce motion and then slowly, staggering, struggling to find his balance the boy rose to his feet once again. Sliding his hand against the slick flooring and clasping tight his bamboo sword, inwardly swearing to never lose his grip on it again he staring down his opponent; ready for the next attack.

"Good." Sanada nodded.

After that. Things fell back into routine. Or so Sanada thought.

"Sensei! Look there! Someone was there watching us through the partition!" Suddenly a frightened scream came from a female student. Her high pitched voice conveying nothing but sere terror. Her slim body defined by toned muscle now shuddered as she held closely the hand of a friend.

"What?" Sanada questioned raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"It's true, Sensei. I saw someone, too. It looked like a man," said the girl who stood comforting the frazzled girl. She held a strong font for her friends sake, however she didn't fool Sanada's eyes for a second. Her face contorted with uneasiness as well.

"There he is!" the first girl cried out, her eyes spotting the fuzzy figure of a man running away from the scene.

"Wait!" Sanada cried after him. Through the sliding door he dashes into the courtyard and sees the cause of the girls distress. Alarmed by his sere presence the intruder quickly turned about-face and tried to make a run for it, only being halted by the hold the elder had on his hand. It was true; he was a man of young age, wild black hair and eyes that were turned away from Sanada's sight secretly being to flood.

"Let me go! Let me go!" he cried struggling against Sanada's strength in an attempt to break free, however his best efforts left him fruitless.

What was happening? This man; his actions seemed to be a little erratic. While it was true that he was looking through the window and trying in his best attempts to run it didn't seem like it was the dojo itself or even from the fear of being caught peeping that guided him to panic. It was as if the thing that he truly wanted to get away from was Sanada. Could it be that it wasn't the underage female students that he was watching, but Sanada himself? And now that the very person of his affections is right behind him, he's began to lose himself; his mind becoming clouded unable to accurately think straight.

Meanwhile the other was going through a similar mental war of him own. Subconsciously concentrating on the feel of the hand in which he presently grasped. It-felt so familiar. The ivory skin was warm and the texture was rough, similar to how his own hands felt, due to years of tough training through tennis as well as kendo. Could this person be a tennis player? He thought tracing his fingers over calluses that could have only been made by grapping the handle of a racket. Still, somehow he knew it wasn't just the calluses that gave him a sense of nostalgia. For that one instant as his heart wavered the raven haired intruder found this as his only chance to break free; and he took it. He twisted his wrist forcing Sanada to lose his grip and without skipping a beat quickly hasten away all the while never once allowing him to see his face.

"Hey, you! Wait!"

The others voice resonated deeply within the wild one, urging him to listen, to stop, and stay by his side, but he knew that he couldn't so he kept running. Holding his ears not to let _his_ voice in anymore than it already has. Even if it was just one more time he knew if he heard it again he wouldn't be able to stop.

"Tsk, bastard," Sanada mumbled to himself out of frustration as he watched the perpetrator get away. The wind then suddenly picked up, the newly found breeze bit into Sanada's skin, scraping his hair against his forehead and into his eyes. It was unbearably cold, just as it was _that_ night.

That was enough. A headache came creeping up upon Sanada's brow irking him severely, to the point where he came back to his students and dismissed the class for the rest of the day.

Nightfall came-too quickly.

The rather irradiated young instructor now rested within the comfort of his apartment laying still upon his bed, willing his headache to subside. Not even willing to seek assistance from medicine. The events of what happen in daylight still remaining fresh in his memory, causing his headache to irk him even more. It was as if his mind was toying with him, making him go back and forth, wanting to desperately remember something one moment and then want to desperately forget another. Was this what it felt like to live in limbo?

The ring of his cell phone then hit him once again. Déjà vu. This was defiantly not his day, the last thing he needed was to be annoyed by the sound of his own phone. The ringing just wouldn't stop; finally he snapped. He grabbed his phone and torn it open.

"What?!" he barked into the plastic device. For a silent moment the other line sounded dead, but then softly a voice was heard, speaking gently yet informative.

"Genichirou shouting like that at your age is bad for your health."

It was Renji.

Aside from Yukimura Renji was the only one of his former teammates that he kept in contact with. There was no deep reason behind it, Renji was a good friend whom Sanada have no qualms being around. He was soft-spoken, but still a good man and he was also one of the only people who was practically obsessive about the others health.

It was good hearing his voice, but perhaps the timing was a bit wrong. If there was a person that Sanada could talk to about what happened to him due to his break-up with Yukimura it would be Renji. But the question was, would he really do it? Renji wasn't the type of person to judge, but how would he react hearing a humiliating story about how his childhood friend went out and got himself black-out drunk just because of a break-up? For the moment he decided to remain mute on that particular subject.

"Was there something you wanted, Renji?" Sanada asked, his eyebrow twitching from irritation that practically oozed between greeted teeth.

"Not particularly," the other answered. "I had just noticed that it has been some time since the two of us have gotten together. I was calling to ask if you wanted to get a drink with me."

Just the mention of the word drink made Sanada's body shudder, however he had no reason to turn the invitation down. He could lie or simply say he didn't want to go. Since it was Renji he probably wouldn't push the subject; returning with some half-heartfelt statement like: "next time then". For some reason Sanada couldn't bring himself to do either one.

"Sure. I'll meet you at the regular place in about ten minutes."

"All right. I'll see you there", Renji replied. And Genichirou I do hope that you are taking care of yourself."

The line went dead after that.

Ten minutes later the always punctual Sanada arrived at his and Renji's favorite spot, a little bar dead center in the middle of town and yet not many people ever venture inside. Why would they, with a name like "the Devils Eyes"? It was small, very little room inside and always deathly quiet aside from the hushed sounds of the music that played on surround sound. It was a 'set the mood' kind of place, dim lighting, closed space chairs and candles dancing on heat. Quite the romantic place just to bring a childhood _friend_ to.

Inside and looking around he soon spotted Renji sitting at the counter, sipping elegantly from the glass tilted towards his lips. In the glass is a colorless liquid, straight Gin perhaps? He always was the type who could hold his liquor. Adverting his attention he took notice to Sanada's arrival.

"Ah, Genichirou."

At the sound of his name Sanada continued to tread forward until he stood next to the Masters' side, looking down on him as if he were judging him for drinking. It wasn't exactly an uncommon sight.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you. Your drink of choice is still Brandy, correct?"

Brandy. That night the taste of Brandy was fresh on his lips; suffocating his very tongue. It must have been his chosen drink in which he intoxicated himself on. Suddenly the urge to throw-up overcame him.

"Not tonight," Sanada said. "Excuse me, Master. Change the previously ordered Brandy to a Scotch on the rocks!" Hearing his customers call the tall the bar keeper dressed elegantly with his dark-ash hair slicked back nodded in affirmation, delighted to sever his loyal customer in any way he can. After he correction of the drink Sanada took a seat, the bar stool next to Renji and closed his eyes, resting his chin upon his knuckles in a tired manner.

"Not in the mood for Brandy? That isn't like you, Genichirou. Is something wrong?" Renji questioned. His voice sounding un necessarily suspicious even he himself thought so, but he just couldn't help it. Worrying about Sanada has become a second nature to him now.

"It's nothing," Sanada retorted, his expression hard and his tone probably sounding harsher than he intended it to be. Renji only cocked his head slightly to the side, knowing better not to push the subject.

"All right then. How are your students progressing?"

"They're all doing well. No one is a issue at the current moment."

"Well that can be expected-when having a Sensei like you." For a moment Sanada thought that he hinted a sly glare in Renji's eyes. Truth be told that look irritated him as if Renji were making fun of him, however it was only a carelessly joke and meant no harm.

Later after the encinal small talk was over and both the men had a sufficient amount of alcohol in their system the room went silent. They only leaned over the counter looking intently on the rocking back and forth ice in their glass', pondering what to say next. It was already well into the next morning.

"Genichirou...," Renji began hesitantly. "I received a call from Yukimura this morning."

Sanada had no reply.

"Our conversation had started out normally as he asked each other how we've been, but I could tell that there was something that was troubling him. When I asked if something was the matter he told me...about what happened...between you two." His tone was serious yet he tried to search himself to at least pretend to be sympathetic. It wasn't in him. His tone of voice was as dead as Sanada's had been earlier.

Sanada was paralyzed. There was nothing he could say. His memories of the actual scene were locked away. It wasn't as if he could explain anything. But then the thought that maybe Yukimura had told Renji the reason behind his transgression. The reason why after five years the one and only person whom he had ever given himself completely to had stopped loving him.

No. He couldn't ask Renji that. This wasn't something he such be involved in. He was an outside party, there was no reason to drag him into the current despire in which he feels.

Renji himself however, didn't know what else to say or even how to touch him, scared he would somehow hurt Sanada; the man who prides himself on his own strength and who always pushes himself further than anyone else.

Perhaps it was enough just being close to him now as he has been doing. In certain times of crises being alone is the only cure, but in other times being alone will only worsen the pain.

The two men remained speechless, not knowing if they should even dare to speak up, fearful of unnecessarily hurting the other, however there is just so much silence one man could take.

"Do not dwell too much on it, Genichirou. Yukimura is a kind man. If he truly had a reason for breaking up with you I'm sure it had to be a good one. Perhaps, it was for your sake," Renji spoke taking a sip from his glass. His words were strong and his voice tame. He always spoke so effortlessly as if his words simply lifted from his tongue and dissolved into the air. Colorless and clear, light and bountiful, like bubbles. They were whimsical. His soft tone melted in Sanada's ear, for the time in awhile he could finally feel himself relax.

A warmth was then felt against his cheek, the hand that resigned there was hard and shattered like glass but still felt so familiar that Sanada could only feel pleasure from it. Suddenly a unforgivable urge overcome Renji. Could it have been from the atmosphere of the bar, the pained look that befallen his comrades eyes, or the fact that in this world the only person Sanada had left... was him? Whatever it was he was completely vulnerable to it, bit by bit he leaned over and placed his lips against Sanada's.

For a long, drawn out moment, Sanada sat paralyzed, as Renji's lips moved slowly over his.

There was no thought, no reaction, only cool lips over his. Ever so slowly, his eyes began to close. A small whimper escaped him as he naively tried to return the kiss. The familiar closeness, his scent, there was no instinct telling him this should stop. Thinking was no longer an option, neither was breathing.

In a quick action Sanada grabbed Renji by the hair pulling his mouth free for a gasp of breath. In that moment the two men sat breathlessly huffing, hopelessly exhausted from passion, lust, and eagerness to do that again. But they knew it wasn't right, they should be doing this, they knew, but deep down they didn't care. Right now all Sanada wanted was that familiar warmth he got from Yukimura pressed against his lips; from anyone's lips.

Smashing their lips together again harder in a heated, closed lip, bruising kiss. Lips met again and again in a clumsy yet perfect meeting of lust and pent-up desire.

Nails dragged along Sanada's chest over his shirt, Renji longed to tear it off and feel the warm skin beneath it; against his own. "Mm..." He wanted him. Parting his lips, he forced his way in, invading the moist craven of Sanada's mouth that once belonged to Yukimura. Running his tongue over teeth and gums, exploring every surface. The alcohol in his system no longer registered, the only thing that intoxicated him was the sweet, rueful taste of Sanada.

Sanada moaned loudly at the assault. His jaw slackened to allow the intrusion. Traitorous hands moved to clutch desperately at Renji's strong bicep muscles, leaning up greedily into the kiss.

It was as if Renji was trying to devour him, and the thought made him revolve. If that really was to happen he would have no objection. Here he was a free man of only a few short days and already he was allowing himself to be completely overtaken by Renji. The thought of kissing him, loving him, never once crossed his mind before, but now that it was happening he didn't have any complaints. His eyes rolled back as he drowned in the pleasure of the passionate kisses that Renji delivered.

By the time Renji finally allowed Sanada's his breath back the morning sun had already arose some time ago. The two men awoke together, still sitting at the bar. The master of the bar who was utterly aware of the ardor that took place before him found it polite not to disturb them and simply left the key, trusting them to lock up once they had their fill of each other.

Sanada's memory was groggy once again, finally aware that perhaps binge drinking wasn't exactly the best idea if it left him as an amnesiac every time. He gave a wistful glance to his partner of the evening knowing even without his memory that nothing more than kissing (if you could call it that) happened the night before. No matter how zealous Renji might have been; to force himself on the man whom he clandestinely harbored a five year love for was something that he just couldn't do. He already overstepped his boundaries by kissing him and by secretly wishing that it would happen again.

Without a word Sanada got up and left the bar.

After leaving the concrete flooring of the city he returned to the carpeted floors of the hallway to his apartment building. His head spinning from withdraws and his feet staggered with uncertainty. He could feel himself ready to collapse when a suspiring sight caught his eye. At the foot of his door sat a youth, but he couldn't make out who it was. He squinted making him appear rather frightening to the untrained eye; as if he were glowering.

Looking up and seeing the pitiful drunkard of a man Sanada had become the mystery person spoke one phrase. "Fukobucho...!" His round eyes turned up with concern.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The voice of the young boy before him was so small, so heavy. Those eyes that used to carry so much arrogance and hatred, now contorted with worry. Ah, such a painful sight to see. What was _he_ of all people doing here?

"Akaya, what are you doing here?" Sanada inquired roughly. He continued to walk forward using the heel of his shoe to kick the younger male out of his way and open the door to his home.

"Eh?! Fukubuchou I came because I was worried about you!" Akaya cried out, stumbling to climb back to the feet after being berated by Sanada's foot. "About...what happened that night you were...drunk." The words came out hesitantly and strained, unsure if he should really be saying anything at all. Wondering if coming here was the right thing to do. Moments later, he got his answer. Suddenly strong hands were on him, grabbing him roughly and slamming him against the inside of Sanada's apartment. The next thing he knew he was staring down the definition of livid.

"What did you just say?!" Sanada retorted. His grip on Akaya tightened, his nails burying deep into delicate ivory skin. "What do you know about that night?"

"Agh, what'd you mean Fukubuchou? I ran into you that night, I asked you what you were doing out so late, but you didn't answer me! W-when I saw that you were drunk I paid for a hotel room so you could rest! I told the guy at the front desk to call me when you woke up so I would know if you were all right so I left me name and number. But...I never got that call." The pain from his vice-captain's iron grip was causing the young devil to grow frantic. He screamed to rid the accusation in Sanada's tone, but the confusion remained. Why did he have to replay the moments of Sanada's life back to him? Gradually his voice lowered into a soft murmur at his last sentence.

"...It was you." Suddenly Sanada's voice practically crackled with ice. No, it became inhuman, like broken glass. His demeanor changed drastically. Holding Akaya's frail body even tighter now; a murderous glare shaking the younger boy to his core. Fearing for his life quickly drowned his equilibrium.

"Today as well. Was it you who came to my dojo today, eh?!" The accusation shot through Akaya's body, forcing him to shudder under Sanada's hold. Having the elder man whom he had always respected so dearly so close was causing delirium to set it. The lack of oxygen he was experiencing didn't help much either, only aiding in his delusion. His body wavered along with his mind. No clear words could be heard leaving his lips, only muffled sounds of pleads begging for release, but more than that-forgiveness.

The look in Sanada's eyes changed. This dissonance in his gaze keeled over, replaced by something akin to surrender. His anger dissipated and finally released the deprived boy under him.

Breathless, Akaya fell to his knees, gagging, gasping for air. Taking in each breath as if he were in ecstasy.

"Get out." As Akaya had watched and listened to Sanada, his eyes clouded over with hurt. The words rang harshly in his ears.

"But!"

"Don't you understand what your told?!"

Grabbing a fist full of raven locks Sanada dragged the smaller male toward the door, throwing him out with little effort; physically so anyway. Quickly he had to rush right back inside before Akaya was able to catch notice of his wavering features, showing uncertainty and remorse. The sound of a man's heart breaking rang wide throughout the walls of the apartment complex when Sanada slammed the door on the pitiful uninvited devil.

"Sanada-fukubuchou! Sanada-fukubuchou!" Akaya cried clinging to the door while still on his knees from being thrown around by the roots of his hair.

"Why are you so mad? If I did something wrong I apologize! Just tell me why."

Heavyhearted now, the abandoned boys strength has been drained to the point where he could no longer even lift his head. Tears began to fall, his harsh moans began echoing around him. Clenching his fists out of his own frustrations he bit down on his molars willing for this situation to resolve.

Choked words then stumbled past his lips. They were strained and quiet but he still hoped that some way they made their way to Sanada's ears. Clinging to the door, head down he breathed the words he desperately seeked an answer to."...Why did you kiss me...?"

Meanwhile on the other side of that barrier-like door Sanada himself was fighting a battle of his own. His hand cupped over his mouth to hold back the urge to cry as black orbs trembled; painfully he listened to his name being called over and over. Everything had fallen... out of place...

That night far after Akaya had left the phone rang, that familiar ring tone he dedicated to his one and only precious person. And for the first time he let it ring, quietly, drowning out into the darkness of his perpetual nightmare.

What time was now? Sanada found himself wondering as he slowly dragged himself out of bed long after sunlight had shone through his bedroom window. On any other day Sanada awoke even before the sun had, to wake up after it had already risen was a very unusual occurrence.

His eyes stung; the sunlight didn't help. The salty liquid from last night left scarce side effects behind, he rubbed dryly at his aching irises, but received no comfort from it. With a deep sigh he stood from his bed and went to get dressed. Once done he walked to his front door grabbing a light jacket, but once he opened the door he looked down...and stopped in his tracks. Down at the foot of his door he thought, "That must have been where Akaya sat." The memory of that small, strained voice calling his name came haunting him once again. He had no other choice but to shake off the thought and continue on his way, leaving it behind with a slam.

Outside in the world away from all his troubles the strident, warmed air slaps the lone wolf of a man hard. He treaded the streets of the crowded yet tranquil city. Passing by people on their own way through life, visiting with others or doing mundane things such as shopping or out for a run. It all seemed so peaceful, Sanada couldn't help but smirk; it was the closest he could come to a smile.

A little ways further there's small coffee shop. It would be a little of an exaggeration to say that Sanada frequents it, but it is nice and the coffee there is a bit bitter; exactly the way he prefers it.

The building itself is petite, off grey in color and shaped oddly like an octagon with a red canapé overhead. On the inside is a wooden counter made of rosewood with stainless steel stools sat at perfect distances apart from the counter, at the other end of the small area is a burgundy loveseat where two lovers sit sipping from teacups where steam danced. They were tiny and presumably filled with cappuccino.

Walking toward the counter Sanada approached a young girl; cute with blue eyes and short chestnut hair parted in the middle, pinned with barrettes on both sides.

"One coffee, black," he orders in a deadpan voice.

"Right away, sir. That'll be 280 yen. Please wait here a minute," the young girl says with a soft smile as she leaves to the side to prepare Sanada's coffee.

As he reached in his pocket to find the money for his beverage he was abruptly cut off by nostalgia. Carried in as if by a monovalent wind.

"Geez, would you stop rushing me already? We're here, aren't we?"

"It would make no sense getting coffee if it will be afternoon shortly."

Two entered the coffee shop, there tones, polar opposites. The first being rough, on edge, and cocky. The other a bit agitated, but struggling to maintain his composure.

Should he turn around? He could never even think of walking away. What was to happen now? All of these strange events, falling erectable out of sync. The past, it has been so slowly and painfully crawling its way back into the current moment in time in which this Sanada Genichirou lives. Like a living embodiment meant to grant delight and anguish. How to react? How to stay strong; stoic? These men, the men of his memories, the reasons for his joy, determination, and sorrow.

"Niou. Yagyuu," he said turning to face his past. Not being able to deny the beat his heart skipped once he saw their faces for the first time in half a decade.

"Ah, Sanada. It's been awhile. It's good to see you," Yagyuu replied once his eyes steadied on Sanada's image, reacting at the sound of his name.

"Heh, fancy seeing you here," Niou remarked flashing a cheeky grin.

"Niou-kun don't be rude!" Yagyuu retorted, reprimanding his companion. "Sanada is still our former Vice-captain. You should show him more respect."

Niou's reply was a effortless one, showing off another cheeky grin and adding a little something extra. "Pupina."

"Well, since the three of us are all here, why don't we enjoy our coffee together?" Yagyuu suggested, sighing a bit after having to raise his voice for dealing with Niou's insolent behavior.

The suggestion was an innocent one, freely at that and truthfully sounded like a nice idea. Once again Sanada had no reason to refuse, and showing such a disrespectful side such as Niou had just shown was not something that Sanada would do. He closed his eyes and nodded his answer.

"A fine idea."

"Here's your coffee, sir!" the girl behind the counter called, her high pitched tone greatly cutting off the awkward tension in the air, finally forcing Sanada to relax a little.

"Well, since Sanada already has his coffee there's no sense in all of us waiting around in here. Hiroshi, you order my drink for me while Sanada and I look for a table outside." Niou remarked, a sly gaze in his impossible blue zircon eyes.

"Very well," Yagyuu answered.

"Come on, Sanada. Sitting outside is much better than sitting in an enclosed space like this."

Sanada had no response, going along with what his former teammate was saying. Taking his coffee from the counter they exited the tiny shop and spotted an empty table just big enough for the three of them. It was old, having an unstable red umbrella overhead that matched the canapé to the actual shop, and the white paint was beginning to wear, but it would do.

"You curious to know, aren't you. The reason why Yagyuu and I are together," Niou whispered under his breath as the two men sat down together; Niou closer to Sanada than appropriately necessary. The gleam in his eyes left unchanged from before.

"That is none of my concern," Sanada swiftly averted away from the topic, taking a sip from his coffee. He couldn't understand why he was being forced to listen to such nonsense. He left these men to their own lives, it was no business of his how they spent it.

"Well, the story should sound pretty familiar. ...After all, it's identical to your story with Yukimura."

Was he taunting him? The gaze in his eyes, the tone of his voice, it was all so sinister. Once that last statement hit the emperor's ears he saw white. His body went numb, his hands clenching underneath the table as Niou simply grinned with satisfaction.

"Heh, relax. I'm only fooling around with you," the trickster remarked. The tension in the air dissolved, dragging the gleam in his eyes with it.

"After graduation I think Hiroshi had every intention on cutting ties with me. That's the way things go I guess. It was to be excepted, after all his grades were always far better than mine so I thought he would get into some top ranked high school, leaving me behind at some low leveled school, just barely getting by. I never once thought that he needed me for anything, not in tennis and not in life. He'd be just fine without me. In the end I was the one that just couldn't let go. Heh, I kept badgering him at his house day after day asking him to go out with me. I guess he just got tired of hearing me ask so he finally agreed...on here we are now."

Hardly identical to Sanada's and Yukimura's story at all. Where they were concerned both parties equally decided on continuing their relationship with each other, that is what true love is. However, Niou's story is just simple harassment and Yagyuu giving in in order to shut him up.

While the blue haired trickster was saying all of this his eyes did tend to divert down, as if reflecting upon his actions and feeling melancholic. Perhaps he knows how he handled the situation wasn't the best way, but it was the only way he knew how. It was just simply that giving up Yagyuu was not something that he was ever willing to do.

Sanada remained silent. There was nothing to say. Truth was he didn't care, only pure nonsense caressed Niou's sharp tongue, but that was nothing new. He really has stayed the same after all these years.

"So then, what's new with you? How's the captain?" Niou asked joyously. Recoiling quite quickly after admitting such heart-heavy words.

BATHUMP. Sanada's heart froze in his chest. His sweat-dropped. Faced with two choices of either breaking down or putting up a wall he chose the latter. Sooner or later he would have to accept it, and apparently his team was forcing him to make it sooner.

"He's fine. He just called me the other night." It wasn't really a lie.

"Oh? That's good. Hiroshi was worried about his health. Heh heh, he's such a worrywart." Such a carefree smile. Niou was always the mood maker. Mysterious, strong, and undoubtedly troublesome. Still, the truth remains that when Rikkaidai lost the first match with Seigaku he was the only one not to cry. No one word would ever be enough to describe this man.

"Ouch! What the hell?!" He spat out loudly. Above him stood a angry Yagyuu, who had just hit him over the head with a rolled up newspaper.

"What exactly am I, Niou-kun?"

_"Oh crap!"_ Niou thought to himself once his irritated companion returned.

"Heh, heh nothing at all! I was just telling Sanada how even after so many years you're still as sexy as when I first met you."

Once again Niou was punished by the wrath of the Kanagawa Shimbun*. With that done the gentleman placed Niou's drink down in front of him before taking his own seat with coffee in his hand, a bit sweetened with milk.

"Apologies for that unsightly display, Sanada-san," he said taking an elegant sip from his cup.

It was as if time had stopped. No, that wasn't quite right. It was as if it had never moved to begin with. Though certain parties were missing this situation was identical to the times they spent when having to wait together for the beginning of a match to start. Having every member gather together having drinks and talking about nonsense. Those times were filled with such joy and anticipation. So why did it feel so empty now?

Sanada was ready to take his leave, with his coffee long drank he had no reason to stay. His body rose and once he took just one step away from the table his feet were paralyzed by his ears.

"Tell Yukimura we said hello. I spoke to him once over the phone about a month ago. He seemed happy."

Happy, huh? If that was true then why isn't he here now? Sanada didn't reply, only continued walking away.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It smelled so sweet. That door made ever so perfectly out of smooth cherry wood, whose texture burned dazzlingly with rich colors of crimson, burgundy and a touch a pink. It stood tall acting on its own; intimidating the young boy who stood before it. How could he gather enough courage to even reach to knock against its perfection? It was true, even something as mundane as a door suited _his_ personality perfectly.

The boy then made a stance as if to leave, but stopped as the sound as the deadbolt turning hit his eyes.

"Akaya? What a pleasant surprise. It's been awhile. It's so good to see you." There he stood in all of his perfection. It was as if he was left unchanged, only he got even more beautiful if that was even possible. His middle length navy blue hair fell so effortlessly framing his face and the calming stare in his eyes still remained. In the moment he first laid his eyes on him all sense of anxiety disappeared.

"I was just about to go out, but do you want to come in? It isn't every day I get to caught up with an old teammate." Yukimura said with a smile as he gestured the younger male into his home.

"Uh, y-yes! Thank you very much, Yukimura-buchou!" The flustered devil cried bowing to his former captain, being a bit too forceful as a stray curl fell into his eyes.

Yukimura slightly giggled, hiding his laughter behind a fair complexioned hand; thin and beautiful fingers with nails the color of cherry blossoms.

"You don't have to be so polite. I'm not your captain anymore."

"No way! You'll always be Buchou to me!" At that Yukimura couldn't help but smile. It's been so long since he's heard anyone call him that. Having Akaya there brought back such blissful times.

On his invitation Akaya followed Yukimura into his apartment, everything suited the navy haired beauty's taste perfectly. The living room was scarcely furnished, but everything had a place. The walls were an off pink color and the sofa where Akaya took a seat was golden with intricate patterns. It was a comfortable place, stylish and tasteful. Not at all excessive, but still elegant.

"Would you like some tea?" Yukimura offered.

"N-No! That's all right." The navy haired beauty smiled again. Seeing Akaya so flustered with his cheeks turning hot and his fingers trembling uncontrollably was something too cute to resist. The urge to reach forward and pet soft ebony ringlets consumed the slight elder for a moment, but he thought he should probably show a little self control if Akaya was still adamant on acting as if he were still his captain; the child of god.

"Actually Yukimura-Buchou the reason I came over today was because I ran into Sanada-Fukubuchou recently," the young mini devils eyes drooped down as the words passed his lips. He regretted the fact that he had to came to Yukimura and trouble him unnecessarily with his problems, but if anyone knew what was going on with Sanada it would be him.

"Oh?" Yukimura perked up once he heard Sanada's name, still he raised a curious eyebrow suspiciously. "How is he?"

"What? You don't know? Yukimura-buchou I thought that you and he were still...you know..." Akaya deliberately avoided using the word 'dating'. It wasn't as if he had a problem with it, he supported all of his captain's and vice-captain's decisions. Still, it was a bit awkward for him to actually speak openly about the matter.

That moment the entire room became embraced by melancholy. Yukimura fell silent and the look in his eyes matched Akaya's. Hesitantly, he let his body guide him toward the chair that sat opposite to the sofa where his subordinate resigned and sat down. He could barely remember taking the steps.

"Genichirou and I...broke up a few days ago." Having finally said those bitter words out loud to another living being. Inwardly he could feel his heart ache. It took all of his self restraint to keep himself from trembling and revealing his vulnerable, weak side to the naive, innocence before him. However, before he was even able to stop himself his eyes had already revealed the hurt and pain he was currently going through just from hearing the name of his beloved ex-lover.

Akaya didn't move, watching as his captain's demeanor changed. He couldn't believe that the downtrodden man before him really was the Yukimura Seiichi that he knew. He held his tongue, but not because he didn't know what to say, because the shock he felt left him without the knowledge to even form words. Patiently, the two sat with each other. The room was unnerving quiet, but the comfort of the other softened the hurt.

And then it hit him. It was the brake up that made Sanada get so blind drunk, and it was because he was drunk that he didn't remember anything that happened when they met up. Not even...the kiss. It all made sense now. Akaya wasn't as big an idiot that everyone thought he was. Still, now having this knowledge it didn't help solve the problem as to why he had come here in the first place. Worrying about Sanada was wrong, he knew that, but he couldn't help but feel inclined. And bitterly now knowing that his kiss was just a drunken mistake hurt him more than he thought it would. It's not like the kiss meant anything to him anyway-right?

"Now then. Was that all you came here to tell me, Akaya?" The silence broke once Yukimura found his bearings to speak again, a fake smile painfully forced onto his face. Akaya still couldn't find the nerve to speak. How could he tell him that Sanada virtually broke down all because of him? He could tell that Yukimura himself was in pain so why did they break up if they both love each other so painfully much? So much so that one cannot even function without the other.

"Yukimura-buchou if you don't mind my asking, why did you and Fukubuchou break up?" The words were spoken, but void of conviction.

"That is a question for another time, Akaya." Yukimura replied evenly, but then his voice dropped to a low murmur when he saw how serious Akaya was taking this. "This is a plight all my own. Genichirou is not the one to blame, I'm at fault. I promise to tell you the truth behind my actions when the time is right."

"All right, Yukimura-buchou." Truth be told Akaya didn't want to end the conversation there with such a vague answer but he could see that having come this far had already wore Yukimura along with himself out, so he kept quiet and continued his visit with his captain in false contentment.

Authors Note: I was on the fence about making this chapter so short, but I wanted to focus on this scene between Akaya and Yukimura. The next chapters I will try to make them longer and upload more frequently. I'm really glad so many people are enjoying my story and I hope you will continue to enjoy it! Thank you very much.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He lay motionless on his living room sofa of black upholstery, wearing gray sweat pants paired with a white v-neck. Draping his forearm over his face he covered his eyes, and had one leg laid flat with the other propped up. The silence in which he revered then came to an abrupt interruption when a subtle chime melted into the air. Sitting on the black iron rimmed glass table beside him sat his grey-cased cell phone almost vibrating itself off the surface in which it clings. Having no drive to answer it Sanada simply let it ring and closed his eyes. After two minutes were up the noise stopped, but started once again just as quickly. The process kept repeating until the irritation finally wore Sanada down. Motivated by rage he slammed his hand down on his phone and ripped it open.

"What?!" he spat out sitting up on his couch, a clear countenance of annoyance etched onto rough features.

"Genichirou shouting like that at your age is bad for your health."

Renji. Again he repeats that remark. His tone sounds bored yet at the other end off the line he slightly cocks his head, wondering what happened to have put his vice-captain in such a foul mood.

"What is it, Renji?" Sanada signed and squeezed the bridge of his nose between two fingers in an attempt to calm himself.

"You sound pathetic." At first Renji couldn't decide whether or not he should say it, but it was something that Sanada needed to hear. If anything what he hated most was having his weakness's pointed out to him. The Master's tone remained the same, bored and monotonous, but underneath it was concern for a dear friend.

"Have you heard from Yukimura?" he inquired. Curiosity played a slight part of the reasoning behind his question. Truthfully and shamefully he hoped the answer was "no".

Just as he wished Sanada gave a blunt "No", but it only rang cold in his ears. He couldn't even rejoice in the fortune he received. His body halted itself and his arm suddenly felt heavy, subconsciously knowing that its master had no right to even speak to Sanada with such half-assed resolve. The drunken kiss from that night was still fresh in his memory and fresh on his lips. He could still feel the lingering warmth of Sanada's mouth on his, mixed with the bitter flavor of Gin and smoothness of Scotch. And even worse than that, he wanted to do it again, oh god, did he want to do it again. Right now; without having the excuse of alcohol in his system. Determined, he kept up his facade of the confidant, no matter the pain he himself was going through because more than his own happiness Sanada's was more important.

The distance between the two men was growing, deepening and there was no resolution, no denying it, and no want to resolve it. The comfort that Sanada didn't know he needed couldn't be found in Renji. If there was even the slightest chance that he could bring himself to love another person again that person would never be Renji. If he ever tried the only love that he could possibly find would be fake, in effect hurting himself as well as Renji. It wasn't even worth considering and Renji knew this, but it still hurt all the same. Unknown to Sanada Renji was feeling the same way he was, he was just better at hiding it. Just as him Renji would never be able to hold the hand of the man he loved, never kiss his lips or see his smile. And eventually if he can't keep his feelings in check he may never be able to hear his voice again or stand at his side.

"Genichirou the next time I call answer the phone the first time, or I'll have no choice but the come to your house."

"Yeah," Sanada breathed the one word with a slight sigh as he smoothed his hair back and leaned his body up toward the phone. He wished that the phone call he was having would last longer. He wasn't quite ready to stop. Hearing Renji's voice soothed him, despite his tone and words. His bored, uninterested attitude, he knew it well but he still couldn't find a sufficient way to prolong a conversation when neither man was any good at it.

His uncertainty had become a living embodiment; something that could be felt, seen and heard. And naturally it was something that Renji could sense. No matter the distance, be it two feet or two thousand miles Renji's understanding of Sanada would never lack. A pause fell over the two then. It's as if Sanada's uncertainty was contagious and it was infecting Renji. Just then the Master opened his mouth, but the one word that he formed stumbled past his lips.

"G-Genichirou...!," the name of his beloved fell from his mouth, but when his gaze drifted to his right his paced stopped and caught sight of something interesting.

"Renji? Oi, are you still there, Renji?" Sanada asked. His tone changed, growing louder and mixed with something in-between distress and curiosity. He moved his body in a jerked motion and then tensed when he received no answer.

"Sorry, Genichirou. Something just came up. I'll talk to you later."

"Oi, Wait, Ren-"

Click. Renji had pulled his phone away from his ear and pushed the end button, hanging up on Sanada mid-sentence. His stare went serious as he eyed the object of his attention from across the street where he stood. Across his eye line was a rundown little sushi stand where a certain wild headed demon sat with a clear pout on his face, fiddling with the straw that stood up in his can of grape Ponta. With a soft grin he stepped forward off the curb and his heavy footsteps echoed nicely against the tar beneath him, as he carried himself closer to the young boy.

"Don't you think milk would have been a better choice of drink?" That subtle aloof voice climbed gently making its way to Akaya's ear.

"Huh?!" Akaya reacted, almost jumping out of his skin from the shock of another persons presence, and even more so at the nostalgia he felt. "Y-Yanagi-Sempai?!" He exclaimed. The name tasted forgotten and forbidden on his tongue, yet a hint of delight made its way in his voice.

"Hello, Akaya. It's been awhile," Renji replied softly.

"Yes, it has, Sempai! What are you doing here?"

"Nothing particularly. I was on the phone until just a moment ago. Perhaps I was so engrossed in my conversation that I did not realize where I was going." Renji's voice sounded strained and his words seemed to drift.

"Ehhh? That isn't like Yanagi-sempai at all," Akaya remarked, a slit giggle escaping behind a cheerful smile.

"Indeed," Renji remarked in a dreary tone. "Concerning myself with Genichirou is such an annoyance."

"Sempai, do you still keep in touch with Sanada-san?! Heh, I guess that's not really a surprise. After all you, fukobuchou, and Yukimura-buchou have been together the longest. I even went to Yukimura-buchou's house to ask him if he knew what was bothering fukobuchou. He's been acting really weird lately." Akaya continued to ramble, without any regard of the consequences they may bare.

Renji frowned listening to the words of a naive child who possessed no sense of tact. "You visited Yukimura?" he inquired. The words were spoken, but void of conviction.

"Yeah. He seemed a little out of it, too-but he told me the reason for it and then I understood why." Akaya's moment ago cheerful tone had now been drowned by dejection.

"So then... you know as well," Renji remarked bitterly. "I want to ask you something. Why did you seek Yukimura out in the first place? You've had no reason before, so why now?"

There was a stagnant pause, and then finally Akaya opened his mouth to speak in a low tone.

"...A few days ago I ran into Sanada-san. He looked-messed up, I guess. A few days later I went to his house to check up on him... but he didn't remember anything about meeting me." The conversation was taking a rather depressing turn.

"Ahhh! Whatever!" Akaya suddenly exploded, slamming his hands down on the table and stood up from his seat. "Why should I care about Sanada-san anyway? He didn't even remember anything that happened. Well then, that's just fine. I'll just forget too!" His tone sounded strong, serious, and angry, but underneath it all he was screaming for a completely different reason.

"Tsk, now I've gone and put myself in a bad mood." He pouted, crossing his arms like an upset child. "I gotta go, Yanagi-sempai, but it was really good to see you again!" He recoiled just in time to say goodbye and flash his sempai that bright smile of his... He was never the type to hold a grudge or stay mad for long. All he ever needed was just enough time to get mad, vent, and then get over it, leaving the experience as something that will only make him stronger.

"You as well, Kirihara-kun. Perhaps we will meet up again," Renji replied.

With that Akaya scooped up his now empty can of grape Ponta and run off down the road, tuning backward to wave to Renji as he descended further into the distance. Renji sat with no reaction, the same way he watched as his former teammate vented his frustrations. He felt no sympathy, no concern, no nothing; completely indifferent. However, he couldn't deny the irksome feeling that found its way into him. The fact that Akaya had contact with not only Sanada, but Yukimura as well made things more complicated. If it was possible he would have to force Akaya to become an outside party once again. He looked down at his cell phone still clasped tightly in his hand from his phone cell with Sanada and his expression changed. He bit down on his bottom molar bitterly and turned his back on the place where he and a 'torn in his side' reunited. Flipping open his phone he sent a text to Sanada reading: "I'm coming over."

...

...

"Genichirou," the bob haired master called out letting himself in Sanada's apartment. Having a personal key sure was convenient. Entering the apartment itself was simple enough on its own. His light footsteps kissed the hardwood flooring as he made his way into the dojo where Sanada was posed. The room was brilliant, filled with dazzling rays of casting sunlight that only served to compliment the grace of the owner of this residence. With dark eyes closed the young man didn't even flitch when the presence of another suddenly arose.

His glance shifted toward him. "Get out." Distain reigned. "You repeatedly call me and when I finally answer you hang up on me. That was quite rude, Renji."

Renji stood still and his eyebrow arched up in a quizzical expression. "Are you pouting, Genichirou? I apologize for hanging up on you," he said bowing to the other in apology. "Now then, if your finished come into the living room. I've brought tea." He said holding up a plastic bag and then turned to exit the room of pungent cleaning detergents. Walking into the living room he sat the bag down on the table and went into the kitchen to prepare the water.

"What took him so long to get here- if he was planning to come over from the beginning?" Sanada stare shifted once again, this time with suspiciousness and inquiry.

A few minutes later he walked into the living room, allured by the freshness of the tea that Renji had set a boil. A towel hung around his neck.

"Ah, Genichirou, good timing. Have a seat, the tea just finished. I'll pour you cup," Renji said acknowledging his companions presence and walking over to where Sanada took his seat and placed a tea cup in front of him, pouring the slightly green colored beverage. Raising it to his lips Sanada took a sniff of it, inhaling its fresh, sweet scent and then took in its flavor.

"This is quite good. Where did you get it?" he asked taking another taste.

Renji opened his eyes casting a narrow stare. "This little sushi stand I happened to find. I hear the sushi there is quite good." A sly tone almost escaped him as those words slide upon his sharp tongue.

"I see."

It happened once again, a silence befell them. Why was it always like this? This awkward, perpetual silence that always followed every trivial remark. For Renji, being together like this was both heaven and hell. It was heaven whenever the two were alone together just as they were now, but anything beyond that was hell. Pessimistically, he wondered how long they could keep this up for. The time wasn't the issue, Sanada had fallen and Renji truly didn't know how he should act around him anymore.

Time washed over them, they shared each other's company well into the night. They talked, having lengthy conversations about whatever came to mind, but were sure to avoid any taboo topics, but eventually the converse died down as they settled in to watch mundane television shows, and had drinks. Finishing the tea that Renji had brought as well as a couple beers Sanada had in his fridge. The night arose and the color went dead taking the sound and vigor with it. With tired eyes the Master glanced over to his friend who laid fading into sleep on the couch beside him. He couldn't help but smirk a little, thinking Sanada looked so child-like. It was long overdue. Looking at him a devious idea popped into his head; to ask a question in which Sanada was too incoherent to lie about.

"Genichirou you haven't met up with anyone other than me, have you?" Renji thought about asking in a whisper, but his voice came out strained, he couldn't fake how much he wanted to know.

"Yeah. I had coffee with Niou and Yagyuu and... ran into Akaya." Sanada answered in his cold, blunt way. Yet his tone staggered a little once Akaya's name froze on his tongue.

As Sanada spoke there was a pause and Renji hoped... "Akaya". The moment he heard the name he tensed. Sickeningly, the urge to bite off Sanada's tongue consumed him. That name, that name. Why was it only Akaya's name that inflamed him? Hearing Niou's and Yagyuu's name come out of Sanada's mouth did nothing to him; seeing them meant nothing. Then why was Akaya so important? Perhaps, it had something to do with the personal way the younger boy was taking his encounter with Sanada. The way he seemed so concerned and distraught when he talked about Sanada and the way he quickly got angry when Sanada didn't remember anything about meeting him.

"Oh?" Renji inquired as he prepared himself a cup of the same steaming liquid. "Do you really think that's a wise thing to do?" He took a sip of his tea. "Meeting up with the others now after such a long time after everything that has happened. I don't know if you call that good timing or bad timing. Perhaps having the others around will help you take your mind off things."

"No. I'll deal with it on my own. That also means that I don't need you." Sanada stopped and glared up at Renji with clear warning in his eyes. He stood from the couch and walked slowly over to Renji grabbing a hand full of his shirt, pulling their faces closer together until his rage was practically visible. "Remember your place, Renji. My personal affairs are none of your business. You even threaten me again and I swear I will write you out of my life for good. I've done it with the others; you are no different."

Fear was the last thing on Renji's mind. He wasn't so much shocked by Sanada's crazed actions so much as taken aback. Still, he trusted every word he said as the truth. He fell silent but finally spoke in a low tone as he stagnantly moved his face closer to Sanada's inch by inch and scarcely he brushed his palm against the others cheek.

"If you do not let go of me very soon this will become a repeat of _that_ night."

Sweet and hot, warmed by the tea that Renji gave him, that was the feel of Sanada's lips. A direct, but slow kiss, gentle and fleeting. Their lips barely touched the surface of each others before they parted. Renji had nothing else to say, he had already done enough. He looked up at Sanada with glazed eyes and smiled, however the expression Sanada was left with was none so happy. It wasn't anything like anger or disgust, but it felt like-guilt? He closed his eyes and released the hold he had on Renji and with a silent stride stepped away from the longing other.

"Go home, Renji," he said softly, but it was evident in his carriage that he was desperately trying to cling to the little composure he had left; fighting his war within.

"All right." The answer was effortless and came quickly, but with a note of obvious disappointment, as if he'd expected it. He stood to leave, but before he headed for the door he walked toward Sanada from behind and lightly kissed his neck, whispering a soft message in his ear. "Take care, Genichirou." The next thing that resonated in his ears was the sound of his front door closing on him.

That night, the sun went down with a vengeance. The sky turned black and dead, not even one star lit up from above. Still, even through that perpetual blackness an even darker image met Renji's eyes as he exited Sanada's apartment building. There in the mist of the grass, damp with fresh dew two footprints resigned imprinted into the upturned dirt below. The air around him went cold and his face paled at the sight. There was no telling where the person with whom those footprints belonged was looking, however they did stand in front of the widow third from the left-Sanada's room, save the fourth floor.

"See there was this boy; his heart was as fragile as the wind." His words were biting and he could hear him grinding his teeth. He repeated the quote from a book he once read; the current situation reminded him of it. In the distance he could hear a rumble of thunder. Contented he thought the rain would wash away the footprints and he despairingly hoped that the rain would wash away the owner of the prints as well.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Genichirou, it's me. It's been awhile. I wish you would call me to let me know how you are. You and I-should talk." The message went dead with a hollow sounding beep. Yukimura's flower-like voice was left hard and metallic sounding over the answering machine. It pained Sanada to wonder how many days ago that message was recorded, but each time he went to delete it he couldn't. So it's been left alone for days at a time until Sanada would go and play it over and over until he was sick with himself. It's been so long since he had last heard his beloveds voice and that message was his saving grace.

...

...

The next morning in Sanada's dojo It smelled like a summer morning, but the cool breeze inside made it feel like a winter night. The students all huddled in small groups shivering, holding themselves in their Hakama trying to keep warm while trying their best to get the morning maintenance done; polishing the floor. However, it wasn't working. Just when the youths were about to give in the screen door was slammed open revealing their foul expression of a Sensei.

"Tarundoru!" he yelled out in displeasure. "What the hell in going on here?"

To answer their Sensei's call a young girl stood up in a trembling motion.

"We're polishing the floor, Sanada-Sensei. The air conditioner got stuck on 18 degrees so it's a little cold." The girls eyes had trouble staying focused on Sanada so she would constantly advert her gaze up and down, clearly giving away her anxiety.

"And that is an excuse to stop practice? Training in a cold climate like this will only continue to make you stronger. If any of you feel that you are too weak to handle a little cold then you should just leave now!"

No one dared to question their Sensei after that, however a look a clear resentment rested on young features. With unwilling vigor each student gradually stood up at their own pace and resumed to take their positions, pairing up to practice kata against one another. Sanada glowered at his students lack of enthusiasm and walked the dojo, closely watching each of his students. He wasn't about to allow them a single second to slack off.

"Hey, do you see that. Over there, in the garden." a female voice rang, talking with the other girl opposite to her.

"Yeah. Are those-footprints?"

"No way! You don't think that it could be the same creep from before. You know, the one that Sanada-Sensei chased away, do you?

"Oi, you two!"

"Eek!" the two girls squealed once Sanada's strong voice erupted into the room

"100 laps now!

"Yes, Sensei!" The girl answered and obediently left the room. Inwardly the topic in which the girls discussed remained on his mind. If they saw footprints could they have belonged to Akaya? He remembered back on the day when he chased him away from the dojo, yet he didn't show his face. Was he simply afraid or was there another reason behind it? Thinking back on it now Sanada never did allow Akaya to explain why he came to the dojo at all. And if those footprints really did belong to Akaya the question: "why did he come again" remains.

At his side he unconsciously clutched his cell phone, unable to put it down since he received that message from Yukimura. Rising it he flipped it open searching through his contacts. Once Akaya's name showed up he paused and hesitated when he thought to click on it.

The sky erupted then, casting a show of lights in the darkened sky. A downpour came upon the dojo then and all the students stood in amazement watching it reign. Sanada glowered and gripped at his phone so tightly until his knuckles turned white and his skin couldn't bare it anymore. A stream of red drizzled from his palm and, like the rain, dripped to the ground.

Even as the day fell to an end the rain never stopped. Sanada changed back to street clothes and took his leave from the dojo, walking home through the storm. His clothes became heavy, and almost transparent. His tan skin peeked out from his white dress shirt, however his light jacket was there to shield most of him from an unexpected eye. His bluntly cut hair matted to his face. Trying to see through a storm was hard enough, he didn't need the challenge of trying to see through his hair as well.

He arrived home soon enough but stopped short just before entering the building when his eyes caught sight of something familiar on the lawn. Two footprints engraved into the dirt, overflowing with rain water, approximately 27.5cm in length. They were perfectly identical to the ones he saw at his dojo earlier that morning. Amused, he scoffed and thought a stalker must be having their fun. He was no fool; no need to be overly worried. If he just put it to the back of his mind it wouldn't make a difference. Turning a blind eye to the footprints he began to reach for the door, but stopped short. Behind him feet dressed in leather run up behind him splashing their way through the piled up water that laid upon the concrete way. The breath of the person who inhabited those shoes broke free, hard and uncontained, as if they had ran for miles just to get to the spot they were in now.

"I should have known you wouldn't answer your phone." A voice as soft as flower petals dripping with morning dew kissed his ears and with a shock filled demeanor Sanada slowly turned to find his ex-lover breathless and soaked to his core. His lovely ivory skin peeked through his shirt and now burned. Upon closer look he could see the image of a naughty display beneath his thin layering with a cherry pink nipple catching his eyes. He couldn't help but let his eyes travel over the man's features, stopping at his dripping wet trances, his lips, his alluring chest. The display he was putting on was so tempting Sanada had to intensely resist the urge to grab him and make him his right at that very moment.

"Y-Yukimura...What are you...doing here?" He found the strength to say as he swallowed hard.

"I just told you. You wouldn't pick up the phone so I had to came see you in person."

"You came here just for that?"

"Yes. I was worr-" Before Yukimura could finish his sentence Sanada had interrupted him by holding his hand up.

"Hold that thought. Come on up to dry off."

"Ah, thank you." With hesitant nature Yukimura couldn't bring himself to look up from the ground. His trembling irises held uncertainty as he followed Sanada's stern back up the stairs of his apartment building to his room, all without saying a word to each other. Opening the door to his apartment Sanada entrusted Yukimura to wait by the door. He watched as his ex-lover left the room through soaked wavy trances that dripped onto the floor. Coming out with a towel in which he throw at the delicate male.

"Go take a shower."

"...That's not necessary," Yukimura replied tentatively, his gaze still unable to meet Sanada's. However, the other couldn't blame him. Being back in this place must be as hard on him as it was on him. There was no reason to push it.

"You should at least dry off." He said and with gentle action he went to take the towel from Yukimura's hands and placed it upon his head to dry his hair. Underneath the quickly dampening cloth Sanada could have sworn he caught sight of a slight grin. And then a shaky hand came up and clasped his own.

"You really are...too kind."

"That may be so. But that's only because it's you." He shouldn't be saying these words; doing these things. It was all wrong, but Sanada couldn't help himself. Having Yukimura this close again after so long was like a dream. He couldn't contain how much he wanted this man just within arm's length before him, yet he still couldn't touch.

Yukimura nodded his head, not quite able to meet his eyes.

This was getting dangerous, Sanada knew that. Biting down on his molars he turned away from Yukimura and quickly took refuge on the couch.

"Sit."

"I don't plan on staying long."

Hearing those words felt harsh, but it was probably for the best. A silent sigh of relief went through Sanada when those words were spoken. There had a been an annoying nagging feeling, one that Sanada hesitated to label as fear, that his friend would stay causing his emotions to twist and his control to snap. His first instinct was annoying. It told him to just apologize and tell Yukimura to go home, but this was no time to let himself become soft. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

'Ouch, right on the mark.' Perhaps it was time to get some facts straightened out. Sanada cleared his throat before talking, trying to keep the juvenile nature out of his voice and failing horribly.

"Is that all you came to say?" He asked.

Yukimura stiffened at those words and he took a minute to find himself. He sighed and tried to discuss this diplomatically.

"You haven't even tried to let me in."

"Is there a reason as to why I should?"

"Listen, Genichirou, realistically do you honestly believe that I did anything unreasonable?"

You mean breaking up with your best friend and lover after five years for no reason, no explanation, let alone a good one? After deluding the other party into believing that you were so in love. Other than that, nothing at all.

"No." Sanada lied. Badly. He played it off and got up from the couch letting his feet guide him toward the kitten passing Yukimura with a bitterly cold essence. Stopping at the fridge he grabbed a beer and snapped it open taking a quite a large sip. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Yukimura had followed him, sharply staring at him leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

"Is there something else you want from me? Wasn't it you who said you weren't planning on staying long?" Sanada asked in a contemptuous manner. His eyes glowered in regard to Yukimura's still looming presence. He took another sip from his beer. Once he did Yukimura's eye seemed to twitch and his lips turned up in what seemed like a smile. It was a humorous little habit Sanada had; whenever he was agitated he would drink. It never really mattered to him what it was so long as it was alcoholic. He claimed that having a drink helped sooth him, however he was always careful to stop at one. Never allowing himself to become a disgraceful person in his own self opinion.

Yukimura's expression softened subtly and then walked toward his pitiful ex-lover gently resting a palm against his face.

"Forgive me. I'll leave for now. Just promise me that you'll stop at one," Yukimura said smiling a flippant grin pointing at the already half empty bottle in Sanada's hand. All fell silent when his eyes turned up in an expression akin to that of a fretful child, afraid of being scolded. He parted his lips and stood up on his toes. Cool lips were then lightly pressed against Sanada's cheek, lifting just as quickly. As Yukimura backed away after the kiss his eyes seemed to tremble as if he were on the verge of tears. He turned and walked toward the front door. Without turning around to look Sanada in the eye. He said once last thing. In a rough tone he choked out the words. "Goodbye, Genichirou." The door closed shut after that, taking all trances of Yukimura with it.

Everything was going to be okay. Sanada would be fine. This is what Yukimura convinced himself to be true. He wasn't a weak person, after enough time has passed Sanada would return to his everyday life. However, secretively he had one unforgiveable desire fed only by his own selfish. He hoped that one day Sanada would be able to forget everything about him, alas he knew that wish would never come true. Still, it was okay like this. Perhaps it's better for Sanada to never forget his first love. It's okay to fall in love, it's okay to never forget your first love. You just have to remember to grow from it. And to fall in love again.

"Make sure you fall in love again with someone else."

...

...

Jazz wistfully played in the background and the lights dimmed down low giving off a warm reddish light inside "the Devils Eyes". Sanada sat with an air of maturity at the bar lightly drinking form a tall glass filled with a change of pace: Kuroshima's whiskey. It was quite and peaceful, filled with an empty air of calm as Sanada sat by himself with no other customers in his wake. No one by the bar master to keep his company, at the moment anyway. Outside the bar told a whole different story.

It was a humid night with a light mist in the sky. All was silent and still save the sound of driving by cars on the wet tar from the earlier rain. Headlights quashed by casting a shine on a young boys face who stood stray; an expression akin to that of an abandoned puppy evident on his features. His gaze was directed at Sanada through the window. With an unsure gaze in puddles of green he stepped forward and entered the bar.

The small bell that hung on the door chimed and alerted Sanada.

"So you're the one who's been stalking me. I thought it felt like someone was watching me," He said in a calm voice gazing deep into his glass and took a sip.

"I wasn't stalking you, Fukobuchou. I just wanted to know if you were all right. You throw me out so suddenly last time. I thought that your bad mood was because of something I did." As the younger man spoke his expression dropped into something even more pitiable, if that was even possible. He felt so pathetic talking to Sanada like this, with absolutely no reason behind his actions and using such half assed words. He wasn't even sure if the reason he was following him around was because he was concerned about him or if it was for his own personal gain.

"Rest assured. It had nothing to do with you."

"I...see." Akaya frowned. He then went to take a seat beside his ex-vice captain. Sanada only eyed him from a moment, watching him sit down, but looked away paying more attention to the drink in his hand quickly becoming watered down by the ice that clattered in his glass.

"Children shouldn't be up this late, let alone drinking in bars." He said with a reprimanding tone tossing his head back to down his drink and clanked it back down on the table.

"You come here quite often yourself, Sanada-san." Akaya replied. His eyes drifted downward bit by bit. "Yanagi-sempai isn't with you tonight?" he asked bitterly, trying his best to hold the distaste of those words back but failed.

Sanada's gaze shifted in interest. "Oh? Pretty good, Stalker-san."

"I told you I'm not a stalker! I-I only noticed you and sempai are always together whenever I pass by this bar." His words matched his body as he shook nervously, clinching his fists and biting his teeth. He wondered who was trying to convince, Sanada or himself.

Always together, huh? It wasn't wrong to say, but it felt inaccurate? Sanada knew that he should put some distance between him and Renji-at least for a little bit.

Akaya flopped himself over the nicely wiped down bar counter, his black shaggy mop of hair itched his cheek and his green eyes were glassy and unseeing, his body laid cold and motionless. He suddenly felt tired, it was the first time in what felt like years where he felt like he could finally relax.

"S-Sanada-san... you've been acting... strange," words bathed in fatigue stumbled passed the young boys lips. Watching him fall asleep right there at the bar counter; it was like Sanada had traveled back in time. Akaya looked so child-like. It was always like that whenever he looked at him. Akaya was so cute and naive, he had a strong sprit and was genuinely protective in nature.

"Have I?" Sanada asked, his glance narrowing with redemption

"Yeah... You have..." As sleep finally took its hold on Akaya Sanada's features softened in unison. Slowly he reached over to his incapacitated kohai and with a scarce touch he ruffled his fingers through impossible stands of ebony curls. Each stand, soft as a new born kitten. Subconsciously he wished that he could get lost in the darkness, the same his fingers did. With every slit twitch he could feel himself becoming more and more entangled in him.

"I wish... that you would k-kiss me... again..._Sanada-san_."

"Sleep talking, eh?" Sanada stated blindly. The last word at this end of Akaya's weary sentence escaped him, being too quiet and under breathed to be heard. He was a bit surprised, but paid no mind to it, thinking that Akaya must have found himself a cute girlfriend or something. Thoughtlessly thinking about how cute it was for Akaya to be dreaming of his lover. There was never a time in his life where the thoughts of his beloved utterly consumed him-not in his dreams anyway. Yukimura practically reigned over him every moment of his life, to give himself over completely even while he was sleeping was too much and he knew that there was no way his pride could bare it.

"Master, the bill please," he said.

The master of the bar came to him as summoned and smiled once he caught sight of the child-like man asleep on his bar.

"Your companion there seems to have taken on more than he could handle."

"You're probably right."

"Shall I call a cab to take him home?"

"No. I'll take care of him."

"As you wish."

The Master left Sanada's stare attending to others things, but secretly he thought it appropriate two leave those two alone. Once he did his bar went silence save the sweet whimsical sound of the small bell attached to the door that chimed with the disappearance of the two men. Leaving behind no evidence, but the empty glass of Kuroshima's whiskey.

...

...

That morning the air around the grief stricken vice captain felt stifling, it was chilled, but somehow he felt suffocated. Each morning became increasingly harder to wake up. The silence that met Sanada the moment he opened his eyes made his world stand still. The cool breeze that came in through his open window felt like ice upon his skin and every moment of the day seemed to drag on, except for this particular morning. Something was strange, the usual cold air that greeted him was replaced by heat and something that felt identical to the softness of human skin; it smelled wonderful. Rising up from his bed and pulled down the sheets he saw Akaya curled up beside him like a small child. The other eyed the sleeping boy beside him, his steady breathing that passed his soft cherry lips and paying special attention to the motion his bare chest moved in rhythm with it. He had such defined muscles, sexy but subtle. They contrasted with his child-like image. Sanada then moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly on the floor. Running his hand through his hair he blew out a sigh.

"Idiot…" he muttered. But a small part of him wasn't sure if he was referring to Akaya... or himself.


End file.
